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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264732">When It Comes to Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames'>fits_in_frames</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Bodyswap, Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Falling In Love, Flirting, Historical, M/M, Other, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:14:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How to fulfill a prophecy in 5 easy steps, or, Bodyswapping for Dummies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When It Comes to Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/onedamnangryfrog/gifts">onedamnangryfrog</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>playing "would you rather"</i><br/><i>when it comes to fire</i><br/><i>you always say that you'd prefer to drown</i><br/>{phoebe bridgers &amp; conor oberst // would you rather?}</p><p>-</p><p>This was supposed to be a small request fill and it kind of...got away from me. Beta read by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainvonchan">captainvonchan</a>, who continues to be the best. Rated T for drinking and smooching.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">ONE.</span><br/>
<i>1424 BCE; in the foothills of the Alps</i>
</p><p>It was a nice day.</p><p>Or, at least, it was probably a nice day. Crawly had been on this planet for nearly three millennia and he still had trouble using the word "nice" to describe anything without feeling a little nauseous. But humans would call it nice, and a certain angel would call it nice, so it was probably the correct adjective, even if it made him uncomfortable.</p><p>Said angel, of course, was the one Crawly was searching for on this particular <i>nice</i> day. They hadn't seen each other since the parting of the Red Sea, and Crawly was running low on assignments, so he decided to pay a quick visit. Nothing wrong with checking in every once in a while, even if it annoyed the angel. Scratch that, <i>especially</i> if it annoyed the angel. He found him on a quiet hillside, under a pear tree, watching a group of children playing near a river. He plucked a piece of fruit off a low branch, and walked up behind him.</p><p>"Hello, Aziraphale."</p><p>"Hello, Crawly," Aziraphale said without looking back.</p><p>Crawly sat down next to him and held out the pear. Aziraphale declined. Probably for the best, considering the consequences of the first time Crawly had tempted someone with fruit. He shrugged and took a bite.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Aziraphale asked after a few minutes.</p><p>"Same as you," Crawly said through a mouthful of pear. "Just waiting for new orders." He swallowed. "Bored."</p><p>"Yes, but what are you doing <i>here</i>?"</p><p>"Well it's not like there's anybody else I can just sit under a tree and have a snack with," Crawly said, and took another bite. It was true: he and humans didn't really mix, and demons from Below were not exactly the most fun bunch. They were too busy most of the time anyway.</p><p>"Thank you for the ego boost," Aziraphale said, miserably.</p><p>"Oh, come off it," Crawly said, examining the sad-looking pear core for any bits he had missed. "I've been telling you for a couple of thousand years now: we're going to be stuck here for a <i>long</i> while. We've <i>got</i> to get used to spending time in each other's company."</p><p>Aziraphale scoffed. Crawly knew how Aziraphale felt about their whole relationship: they were coworkers, at best, and they had absolutely no reason to associate beyond that. But this was the first time he hadn't outright rejected the premise, so Crawly considered that progress.</p><p>He tossed the remnants of the pear into the underbrush, and finally took a good look at Aziraphale. As a rule, Crawly made it a point to keep up with the latest fashions, changing his clothing and hairstyle at least once a year. But the short interval between their meetings--a few decades as opposed to a couple of centuries--made it very obvious that Aziraphale didn't do the same. He looked <i>exactly</i> as he did last time.</p><p>"You ever think about changing your hair?" he asked, thinking out loud a little bit.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "We can't all be you, Crawly."</p><p>"You could, if you wanted," he said, resisting the urge to perform a full-on temptation. "I mean, you know we can change these forms into whatever shape or size we want, or dress it up as we please, right?"</p><p>"Of course," Aziraphale said in a tone of voice that said he had definitely forgotten.</p><p>"And yet you haven't done it."</p><p>"I like my clothes!"</p><p>"And how did you get them?"</p><p>"A human made them."</p><p>"You..." Crawly paused, skirting around the word <i>tempted</i> before continuing. "...convinced a human to make them for you?"</p><p>Aziraphale bristled at the implication. "I paid them!"</p><p>"With what?" Neither of them were in the habit of <i>earning</i> coins.</p><p>"Erm."</p><p>Crawly grinned. He knew Aziraphale was not a very good angel, but artificially inflating currency without realizing it was next-level.</p><p>"It was just a few coins," Aziraphale said, defensively. "The family needed help."</p><p>"Uh-huh. I see," Crawly said. "But you do <i>remember</i> how to do it, at least. The changing, I mean."</p><p>Aziraphale scoffed. "Of course!"</p><p>"Show me."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Crawly smirked. "Show me. I want to see what you <i>would</i> change if you did."</p><p>"But I don't want to! This--" he gestured at himself "--is perfectly functional!"</p><p>"You don't remember, do you?" Crawly leaned back on one hand. "I could show you how, if you wanted."</p><p>Aziraphale shot him a look, one he had only seen used by angels punishing the wicked. "Don't you tempt me, <i>demon</i>."</p><p>Crawly almost instinctively recoiled, hissing. He wasn't particularly fond of his chosen name and had been thinking about changing it, but it was the name he had asked Aziraphale to use, and this was the first time the angel hadn't complied.</p><p>"Oh, what, you don't like it when I call you <i>demon</i>?"</p><p>"How would you like it if I called you <i>angel</i>, hmm?" Crawly spat.</p><p>Aziraphale visibly squashed an emotional reaction. "It would be fine. That's what I am, after all."</p><p>"Fine then," Crawly said, standing up and brushing the grass from his hands. He didn't want to stick around to see just how bad this conversation could get. "See you around, <i>Angel</i>."</p><p>And even if the day had been <i>nice</i> before, it definitely wasn't nice now.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><span class="u">TWO.</span><br/><i>905 AD; Kingdom of Alba [Scotland]</i><p>Crowley was drunk.</p><p>Well, not quite drunk. He was two-thirds of the way into a bottle of very strong mead, and his head was swimming a bit, but he wasn't exactly <i>drunk</i>.</p><p>Aziraphale, however, was <i>definitely</i> drunk.</p><p>The angel had been talking about his time in Paris (helping keep up human morale during recent attacks on the city), gesticulating occasionally with his nearly-empty bottle. But Crowley wasn't really paying attention, letting himself get distracted by the way the firelight danced in Aziraphale's eyes, until--</p><p>"Anyway, it's a lovely city when it's not under siege. I was almost tempted to stay there!"</p><p><i>Tempted.</i> That, as Aziraphale had pointed out many times, was Crowley's job.</p><p>"Should I be jealous?" Crowley said, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>Aziraphale spluttered and playfully struck Crowley's shoulder. "Crowley!"</p><p>"I'm the only one allowed to tempt you, Angel," Crowley said with a very pleased grin.</p><p>Aziraphale shied away a little. "Crowley," he said again, softer this time.</p><p>Something hung in the air between them, tense and unspoken. Crowley ignored it, and changed the subject. "Have you given any more thought to my proposal?"</p><p>It had been nearly 400 years since Crowley first set forth his idea of them working, if not together, at least in tandem. He had suggested it several times since, and he supposed it couldn't hurt to try again.</p><p>"Plying me with alcohol won't work," Aziraphale said, and unsteadily took another swig of mead. </p><p><i>Still being a stubborn idiot, then</i>, Crowley thought. Very quickly deciding that this wasn't a fight worth having at the moment, he moved onto another topic--an even older one. "Fine, let's talk about your hair, then."</p><p>Aziraphale swapped out his bottle for a new one behind him. "What about my hair?"</p><p>"It still hasn't changed."</p><p>Aziraphale gave him an annoyed, but gentle, look. "I don't see why that's any concern of yours."</p><p>"Don't you want to...make your body your own?" The very idea of not wanting to change <i>anything</i> about the basic corporations they were given was baffling to Crowley. He had to know what, exactly, Aziraphale was thinking.</p><p>"It <i>is</i> my own," Aziraphale said, definitely annoyed now. "I like it this way. Not all of us have to change it up every half-decade."</p><p>"Hey now, this style is fashionable out east," he said, not exactly remembering where <i>east</i> was, but knowing that his braids were <i>very</i> popular there.</p><p>Aziraphale hummed a judgemental hum.</p><p>Crowley gently steered the conversation back on course. "I mean, aren't you curious as to what you can do? Just a little?"</p><p>Aziraphale stuck out his bottom lip. "...maybe a little."</p><p>Crowley grinned. That was easier than he thought it would be.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself." Then, after a moment, "So, what should I change?"</p><p>"Anything you like. Let me get to know you a little bit better." <i>Whoops.</i> Crowley froze. He had never been so forward with the angel, but he must have been more drunk than he realized.</p><p>"<i>Crowley.</i>" It was difficult to see in the dim light of the fire, but Aziraphale was definitely blushing. "I'm not <i>sober</i> enough to choose. You choose for me."</p><p>He was very, very relieved that the angel was going to let that little exchange pass them by. "Fine," he said. "Your hair. Change the color."</p><p>Aziraphale nodded, sat up, and exhaled. A few seconds passed, and then a few more, and then a few more. Nothing was happening.</p><p>"Aziraphale?"</p><p>"I--I'm trying." Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, and nothing continued to happen.</p><p>"Here, let me show you." Crowley put down his bottle and leaned over, one hand outstretched.</p><p>Aziraphale pulled his arm away. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"It won't hurt," Crowley said, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in his chest. "Trusssst me."</p><p>He wrapped his fingers around Aziraphale's forearm, and concentrated on his own hair, feeling each strand shift from auburn to black until all of it had changed.</p><p>"Oh," Aziraphale said.</p><p>"Do you understand now?"</p><p>"I think so. Let me try." Aziraphale closed his eyes again, and Crowley could feel the subtle shift through his fingertips, which still lingered on Aziraphale's arm, but he couldn't see any differences when the angel was done.</p><p>"What...what did you change?"</p><p>"My hair," Aziraphale said, waggling his head a bit. "It's blond now."</p><p>"That's not...exactly what I meant," Crowley said, half-chuckling despite himself. Of course, he would make the absolute smallest change possible.</p><p>"Why, did you have something else in mind?"</p><p>"No, no," Crowley said, picking up his bottle again. "You did it, that's the important part."</p><p>They both stared at the fire and sipped their mead for a few minutes before Aziraphale said, "We should change back."</p><p>Crowley shook his head. "Why?"</p><p>Aziraphale looked at him incredulously. "You look ridiculous."</p><p>"You don't," Crowley muttered. It was true--Aziraphale looked just as angelic as ever. It was infuriating.</p><p>"Yes, but I <i>liked</i> my hair how it <i>was</i>."</p><p>Crowley was going to lose this argument. "Fine," he said, and was starting to gear up to change his hair back when Aziraphale touched his arm.</p><p>"I might need some help. Bit drunk, you know." And there it was. The Look. The one Aziraphale gave when he was one breath away from giving in to whatever that tense, unspoken thing was between them.</p><p>It was a look that Crowley had a very hard time resisting.</p><p>He took Aziraphale's hand in his own. "Together?"</p><p>Aziraphale smiled a wobbly smile. "Thank you."</p><p>"Don't mention it. Count of three?"</p><p>Aziraphale nodded, and tightened his grip on Crowley's hand.</p><p>Crowley counted to three and closed his eyes. There was a tingle--that was new--and when he opened his eyes again, his own face was staring back.</p><p>"What?" The voice that spoke definitely sounded like his, but Crowley was absolutely certain that it wasn't him.</p><p>"What?" said Aziraphale's voice, coming out of Crowley's mouth. <i>Oh, no.</i></p><p>And then, Crowley started laughing.</p><p>"It's not funny!" said Aziraphale, using Crowley's voice.</p><p>Crowley, from a body that looked a lot like Aziraphale's (except with blond hair), had fallen back onto the ground and was in near hysterics. "It's--it's pretty funny!" he gasped out between bouts of giggles. He suddenly remembered his earlier slip up about getting to know Aziraphale, and started laughing even harder. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind.</p><p>"Crowley!"</p><p>"Fine, fine," Crowley said, sitting up and wiping his (well, Aziraphale's) eyes.</p><p>"How do we, um--"</p><p>Crowley smiled. He wasn't sure, but he had an idea. He held out his hand. "We try again." Aziraphale took it.</p><p>He counted to three. The tingle. Eyes open.</p><p>"Oh, much better," Aziraphale said with his own voice. His hair was stark white again.</p><p>"Now we know for the future, I guess," Crowley said.</p><p>"The future? I plan on never doing that again!"</p><p>Crowley tilted his head and took a drink of mead. "You never know."</p><p>Aziraphale huffed. "I think it might be best if--if I sober up and we part company."</p><p>"Oh, come on, Angel," Crowley said, helplessly reaching for the hem of Aziraphale's tunic as he stood up and gathered his things. "It wasn't that awful."</p><p>"Have a good night, Crowley." Aziraphale sounded, unfortunately, very sober indeed. He turned, and left.</p><p>Crowley stared at the fire, and opened his second bottle.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><span class="u">THREE.</span><br/><i>1215 AD; near Slough, England</i><p>Crowley was beginning to think that Aziraphale wasn't going to show up. He had been sitting at a table in the inn for several hours, and there was no sign of him. But the message had seemed urgent, and Crowley would honestly take any excuse to see him again only a few months after their last meeting, so he continued to order drinks, and wait.</p><p>Around midnight, a hooded figure sat across the table from him, but did not say anything.</p><p>Crowley was fairly sure he knew who was under that hood (he certainly recognized the angelic smell), but he also said nothing, and took a sip from his cup.</p><p>The figure leaned in. "It's me," it said in Aziraphale's voice.</p><p>Crowley grinned. "I know."</p><p>Aziraphale lifted his hood. "Why didn't you--"</p><p>Crowley grinned wider.</p><p>Aziraphale made a frustrated noise, and then settled into his seat with a level of comfort that Crowley wouldn't have expected from any other angel, but was completely unsurprising from Aziraphale. "Thank you for coming."</p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Wasn't out of my way. What do you want?"</p><p>"Want? Why do you think I <i>want</i> something?" His tone implied that he didn't <i>want</i> to be here. He didn't <i>want</i> to be sitting across from a demon like this. He didn't <i>want</i> to be <i>near</i> a demon, not <i>ever</i>.</p><p>"Need, then," Crowley said. "What do you need?"</p><p>"A favor," Aziraphale said, very quietly. A flagon had appeared in front of him, but the innkeeper wasn't quite sure how it had gotten there.</p><p>Crowley had chosen the wrong time to take his sip of beer. He spluttered before saying, "Oh?"</p><p>Aziraphale seemed more anxious than usual, which was quite a feat. "They--" he briefly looked skyward "--are starting to get...suspicious."</p><p>"I see."</p><p>"I saw Gabriel the other day and he said--well, he said they saw me last time I did you a favor." </p><p>"I see, " Crowley repeated, trying to sound as calm as possible. He was not calm. He was very, very far away from calm.</p><p>Aziraphale gulped his ale, as if he was trying to catch up with Crowley's progress. "I was able to explain it away--told him I was there <i>thwarting</i> you--but I'm not sure that's an excuse I can use twice."</p><p>"So I guess next week is off the table, then." Crowley's mild panic had changed to annoyance very quickly. Was he going to have to drag himself halfway across the world for one tiny temptation?</p><p>"Well, no, I have to be in the area anyway so I thought that maybe, um." Aziraphale leaned in quite a bit closer. "I could go in disguise."</p><p>"Disguise," Crowley said, flatly.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"As what?"</p><p>"As you, of course."</p><p>Crowley felt his annoyance morph into...something else. Pride, maybe? It was unclear. "Oh, well, I'm sure you could work that out on your own--"</p><p>"I tried," Aziraphale admitted. "The other day. But you change so often and it's hard to get all the details and--"</p><p>"You...tried?" Crowley's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Pride. Not the sinful kind, but pride nonetheless.</p><p>"It was...difficult," Aziraphale continued. "I was thinking we could...well, do you remember that one time when we were drunk and we--"</p><p>"Yes?" Crowley had an idea where the angel was going but he wanted to find out for sure before he agreed.</p><p>Aziraphale wrung his hands a bit. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private. I'm keeping a room upstairs." He finished his beer and stood up. "Come on, then."</p><p>Crowley, slightly shocked that the angel had <i>invited him up to his room</i>, followed him.</p><p>"So," Aziraphale said once the door was shut, throwing his hood back, "I'd like to try and swap again."</p><p>"Yes, I gathered that," Crowley said, sitting down on the bed.</p><p>Aziraphale sat next to him. "So you'll do it?"</p><p>Crowley leaned back on one hand. He wanted to test him a little first. "Convince me."</p><p>"Ah--ah--" Aziraphale stammered. It would be endearing if demons found things endearing, which they absolutely did not. "I'll do it for you next time."</p><p>"Ah, but <i>I</i> haven't been caught, Angel," Crowley said, which was, very strictly speaking, true. He had been miscredited, sure, but never <i>caught</i>.</p><p>"Fine," Aziraphale said, clasping his hands together very tightly, thinking. "It will...make it easier for me to do more favors for you. In the future."</p><p>Now <i>that</i> was an answer. "Sounds reasonable," Crowley said, frowning slightly, although he felt exactly the opposite.</p><p>Aziraphale's face lit up. "Excellent. Shall we try it now? Just to make sure it works." He held out a hand.</p><p>Crowley shrugged, and took Aziraphale's hand. It was the same as last time, except that this time they did it on purpose: he counted to three, thought about changing his appearance, there was a tingle, and then he was looking at his own face.</p><p>"Oh, wonderful," Aziraphale said through Crowley's voice. "Right, let's change back, then. Shall I count us in?"</p><p>But something about hearing that soft, gentle inflection through his own voice didn't sit well with Crowley. "Let's not just yet," he said, somewhat surprised at what he sounded like through Aziraphale's voice.</p><p>"Why not?!"</p><p>"You have to leave in two days, right?"</p><p>"Yes..."</p><p>"Well if you don't want to get caught again--if you're going to impersonate me--you've got to sound like me, too."</p><p>Crowley wasn't sure he had ever looked as stunned as Aziraphale did right now, but it was nice to know his face could handle it. "I do sound like you! That's the whole point!"</p><p>"No," Crowley said, and then, in his best angelic approximation, continued: "<i>You sound like this.</i>"</p><p>Aziraphale scoffed. "I do not <i>sound like this</i>," he said, sounding exactly as he did in his regular corporation. "Oh," he said almost immediately. "I suppose you have a point."</p><p>Crowley nodded.</p><p>"And, I suppose," Aziraphale continued, very slowly and thoughtfully, trying to bring a bit more gravitas to his voice, "you'll be impersonating me as well."</p><p>Crowley's heart jumped again. That was pride, and could not possibly be anything else.</p><p>"Might as well work together on it, hmm?"</p><p>"Yeah," Crowley said, trying very hard not to think about how...proud...he was. "Might as well."</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><span class="u">FOUR.</span><br/><i>1800 AD; Soho, London</i><p>If Crowley were forced to rank all of the many activities he had performed with his human-shaped corporation, getting drunk would most likely come out on top. A very close second, however, was kissing.</p><p>Not the kind of kissing that was accepted in polite society--the kind he had to do to perform nefarious deeds with very upper-class humans. That type of kissing was rubbish. No, the kissing that would come just below intoxication was the kind of kissing he did--was currently doing--with Aziraphale.</p><p>They were in the angel's brand new bookshop, on his absurdly comfortable sofa. They had been toasting to Aziraphale's success, and then the day had turned into night, and at some point, they had started kissing. This wasn't their first time, but it <i>was</i> the first time they had any kind of privacy--before, it was only ever done in dark corners and hidden alcoves. Aziraphale owning this shop meant that they had a nearly infinite amount of time, and so Crowley was determined to make every kiss last as long as possible.</p><p>There was a moment, around 3 in the morning, when he paused to just <i>look</i> at Aziraphale beneath him. His soft eyes and pink lips looked like a dream, and Crowley almost pinched himself. Aziraphale craned up to him and pressed their lips together, catching Crowley's bottom lip between his teeth. Crowley made a very happy sound against the angel's mouth.</p><p>He had moved down to Aziraphale's neck, when Aziraphale, one hand still on the back of his head, said, "You came here to talk to me about something."</p><p>"Bit busy right now," Crowley replied without lifting his head, and then nipped at a soft spot under his jaw.</p><p>"Yes, but--<i>oh</i>," Aziraphale gasped as Crowley nipped a little harder. "It sounded very--hmm--important."</p><p>"Just--" Crowley said, indulging him between kisses "--need--another--favor."</p><p>"Hmm, yes," Aziraphale half-moaned. "Regarding the, ah--the--regarding next week, I assume."</p><p>"You asssssume correctly," Crowley hissed, gently holding Aziraphale's earlobe between his teeth.</p><p>Aziraphale readjusted his leg wrapped around one of Crowley's, and wound his fingers through Crowley's hair a little tighter. "I imagine you'll be wanting my face then."</p><p>Crowley pulled himself up so he was over Aziraphale again, poised to kiss. "I want a lot more than your face right now, Angel."</p><p>Aziraphale tutted, a half-hearted scolding sound. "Crowley!"</p><p>Crowley grinned again, and pressed their mouths together.</p><p>A few seconds later, there was a tingling sensation--not a pleasant, erogenous one, but a somewhat familiar, ethereal one--and then--oh. <i>Oh, no.</i> Crowley pulled away.</p><p>"Oh my," said Aziraphale, although it was with Crowley's mouth. And then he started laughing. It was always strange to hear the angel use his voice, but the laughing--that was borderline creepy, is what that was.</p><p>"How--" Crowley stammered. "Why--what?!"</p><p>Aziraphale wiped away a tear. "I suppose," he said, still giggling a bit, "our current...activities <i>primed</i> us!"</p><p>The face Crowley was using--the one he would use again next week--felt like it was on fire. "We didn't even <i>try</i> to do it that time."</p><p>Aziraphale's laughter died down to an amused chuckle. "Oh, don't be embarrassed, dear boy. At least now we know how to do it the easy way."</p><p>Crowley desperately wanted to stop talking about this, to start kissing Aziraphale again but, well, strange didn't even begin to cover it. "I think we should swap back."</p><p>Aziraphale had no right to raise those eyebrows like that. "It might be fun, though."</p><p>Crowley gulped. The implications of that statement were too much for him to process so quickly. "Just--not too keen on the idea of kissing my own face right now, is all."</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his amber eyes. "Oh, fine," he said, and linked their hands together between them. "Some other time, then," he added with a smirk, and counted to three.</p>
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</div><span class="u">FIVE.</span><br/><i>The Night After the End of the World; between Tadfield and London</i><p>When Aziraphale sits down on the bus in Tadfield, he takes Crowley's hand in his.</p><p>A buzzing anxiety hangs in the air--not because of the hand-holding, though. The hand-holding is actually <i>lessening</i> that feeling, and if Crowley is being honest, he's very glad for it. No, this particular atmosphere is because they're not sure what's going to happen next, but they know it is definitely going to be <i>something</i>. And knowing Aziraphale...</p><p>"I've worked it out," Aziraphale says, almost on cue. He's looking straight ahead, ignoring the fact that this is the first overt display of affection they've shown each other outside of the bookshop, ever. "The prophecy," he continues. "I know what it means."</p><p>"Yeah, me too," Crowley says. Choosing faces, playing with fire. Seems pretty obvious, but he supposes that's because of his intimate knowledge of How Hell Does Things. "Do you think Agnes...knew?" he asks, running his thumb over the back of Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale doesn't object.</p><p>"She might've," he says, still not looking over. "She probably didn't understand it, maybe didn't have all the <i>details</i>. But she might've known the...broad strokes."</p><p>Crowley is suddenly very aware that it's been several minutes and Aziraphale is still holding his hand. So it seems like a perfectly valid question when he asks, "Are we doing it now?"</p><p>Aziraphale, however, makes a dismissive sound. "No, obviously not, we're practically in public." He pauses, shifts a little in his seat so he's minutely closer to Crowley. "I think I'll take you up on that offer to go to your place. And maybe we can--" he clears his throat "--do it the, um, easy way."</p><p>Ah, yes, <i>that</i> was what Aziraphale meant by <i>all the details</i>. Crowley's face goes very warm, and he quickly pushes aside all thoughts of a 350-year-dead witch knowing the exact nature of their relationship. "Then why," he asks, "are you still holding my hand?"</p><p>Aziraphale finally looks over at him, with those lovely soft eyes and just a hint of a smile on his lips. He says nothing, but tightens his grip.</p><p>Crowley takes a deep breath, and smiles back as he lets it out.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>{Come say hi on <a href="https://dreamsincolor.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/fits_in_frames">Twitter</a>!}</p></blockquote></div></div>
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